


In Flight

by Cumberbatch Critter (ivelostmyspectacles)



Series: Sleepy Hollow OTP Prompts [11]
Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Fear of Flying, Flying, Ichabod's First Time on a Plane, Phobias, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-06
Updated: 2014-11-06
Packaged: 2018-02-24 07:57:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2574038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivelostmyspectacles/pseuds/Cumberbatch%20Critter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ichabod's first time on a plane.</p>
<p>He is most decidedly not amused.</p>
<p>
  <b>Prompt: Person A is terrified of flying.</b>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Flight

**Author's Note:**

> I self prompted myself this time, because I thought this would be a cute fic.

Oxford was, more or less, an eight hour journey.

Ichabod hadn't put too much thought into the fact that it only took eight hours to travel from New York. He was just aware that that was the time it took now. He recognised that there were vessels called ‘airplanes’ - or ‘aeroplanes’, on the other side of the metaphorical pond, but he had made the mistake of not looking into these vessels.

Now he was seated upon one, and he found it most unpleasant.

There were too many people, for one. Ichabod didn't mind the press of society. It had taken him awhile to get used to the sheer amount of people in Sleepy Hollow, and the alleged number throughout the entire world, but gotten used to it he had. But in a small, compact _thing_ that was expected to fly through the air, Ichabod found it unsettling.

Secondly, take-off had been... unpleasant was a poor word to describe it, and yet it had been. The plane started moving, and Ichabod felt like his stomach had been left behind. Then they ascended, and Ichabod's ears popped, startling him out of his shock long enough to make him panic over that maybe something bad had happened to him. And now, it was just supposed to be just... _smooth sailing_ , but Ichabod felt in danger of having his breakfast make a reappearance. He felt so sick.

It just wasn't... _natural_ for something so large, with so many people, to fly through the air without falling. It was just impossible. Not that he could argue about possible, not after his life, but... this flying lark, it made his skin crawl.

"Alright there, Crane?"

Ichabod forced himself to look away from the back of the seat in front of him, looking towards the Lieutenant. She was smiling at him, seeming amused as though the predicament was indeed humorous. "... Fine," Ichabod forced out, and then swallowed back the excess saliva in his mouth.

"It's just, you haven't let go of the armrests since we took off. That was an hour ago."

Ichabod clenched his teeth. He _had_ noticed; he just couldn't let go. His fingers were white due to his grip on the armrest. It was most uncanny that he could survive the war to stop the apocalypse and be so vexed by a flying machine.

"It's okay, you know," Abbie added.

Ichabod inhaled and exhaled slowly. "I am unwilling to accept that."

Abbie put her hand over his. Ichabod looked down at their hands, drawing in another breath. Her hand was warm; he focussed on it instead of the plane.

"Alright?"

Ichabod swallowed again. "I believe I will be."

Abbie smiled encouragingly.

She talked him into standing up when the seatbelt sign had gone off, accompanied him back to the lavatory, most because walking unsettled him further, and then idly slipped her hand in his to lead him back to their seats. He tried not to panic too visibly when they hit a patch of turbulence, although his eyes must have given him away because Abbie leaned over to kiss him softly.

It was sufficiently distracting, although Ichabod would have been infinitely more enthusiastic if he wasn't still in danger of vomiting.

He wanted to take in England immediately as they landed, but it was lost on his stomach and body. So, he kept his eyes closed - for if the plane were to combust upon landing, Ichabod did not want to see the explosion or the flames licking towards him - and focussed on his breathing, and Abbie tracing idle patterns on the back of his hand.

They were in the queue to disembark a few minutes later. Ichabod stared stonily towards the door, wanting to be out of the stale air. But even more: he turned abruptly, slipped his fingers into Abbie's hair and leaned over to kiss her on the mouth.

He felt rather than heard Abbie's hum of surprise, and his felt his own cheeks flame up in response to the eyes that were invariably on the both of them, but he didn't pull away automatically. Instead, he kissed her softly and allowed her to lean into the kiss for a brief moment, only to then pull away slowly.

Abbie raised her eyebrows. "Did you want to get off this plane or shall we stand in the aisle all day?"

Ichabod cleared his throat. "I would very much like to leave this flying box behind," he said, dropping his hand. "After you, Lieutenant."

Abbie touched his arm gently and walked ahead of him, smiling to herself as she went.

Ichabod happened to glance up to find several people, mostly women, smiling at him fondly from the display. He swallowed and hurried after Miss Mills.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't even intend for the Ichabbie to happen so prominently! I had intended gen and this happened! :O I like it nonetheless.
> 
> I do not own _Sleepy Hollow_. Thanks for reading.


End file.
